


It's A Wonderful Park

by thecurlyginger



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:09:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecurlyginger/pseuds/thecurlyginger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Leslie's campaign managers leave her, Ben wishes he never came to Pawnee. A guardian angel with a familiar face grants him a look of the town, and Leslie, without him. AU in the spirit of It's A Wonderful Life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Wonderful Park

**Author's Note:**

> I can't tell you how much this fic hurt to write. I've become so accustomed to just retelling the seasons' arcs through the perspective of either Ben or Leslie, that I forgot how challenging (but nice) it is to write an AU. This is the ultimate AU in a sense - an AU without Ben Wyatt. Enjoy!

It's a funny thing, life, because one moment Ben Wyatt feels uninhibited as he declines the job offer with Tilton & Radomski Accounting, and the next he feels like utter dog shit as he sees five voicemails from Leslie and one text reading she's polling at 1% and her campaign managers have left. He should go see her, but he drives to a bar like a man possessed, not even aware of where he is until he has a beer in front of him. Of course, because life is just so damn _funny_ , the bar happens to be the bar he took Leslie to his second day in Pawnee.

Beers at 10:30 in the morning seem like so long ago. It's been 18 months since Ben and Leslie met, and he's managed to ruin her life. Actually ruin it. They love each other, so much that they couldn't be apart. What did Leslie tell him while she laid beside him in post-coital bliss after they reunited? “Why can't I have you and the campaign?” Why indeed.

If he were smart, he would have fled Pawnee after they broke up when it became clear that Leslie embodied everything he stayed for. Ben could be far, far away, reading about Leslie's successful campaign. He would get over her eventually. But Ben wasn't smart; he stayed for her smiles, stayed for the friends she helped him make, stayed for _her_ with the hope that they would be back together in romantic harmony.

Now they are. And now she's facing the consequences.

Ben's made a difference for many towns (whether or not that difference was welcomed at first is another story). Through death threats and rocks thrown at his car window, he's worked to repair broken, bankrupt governments. People still have their jobs, they still have waste management and funding for school lunches thanks to him. At the end of the day, Ben can say humbly that he's not a bad guy.

Leslie, though, would be better off without him. Not now, of course. He could never leave her, not that it would do her any good at this point anyway. No one's going to say, “Oh, Ben's left Leslie, so that whole trouble is over. Let's give her a break and hold the election right now! All in favor?”

No, Leslie would be better off if Ben had never stepped foot into Pawnee. Of that he's sure.

“I _literally_ could not disagree with you more.” Ben jumps in his seat at the apparition of Chris Traeger beside him. How much beer did he drink?

Peering into his bottle to see it still half-empty (and certainly not half-full), Ben asks, “Did you just run really fast and sit down? Or am I going crazy? I'm going crazy, aren't I?”

Chris beams. “Oh, I'm not really Chris Traeger, but a friendly face is always nicer in this situation. I am your guardian angel, and this is going to be the most amazing look into an alternate reality.”

“Alternate what? Chris, what's going on? And why isn't anyone noticing that I am freaking the fuck out because _Traeger the Friendly Ghost_ is talking to me?” The bar tender is talking to a couple beside him, paying no mind that Ben's volume is escalating. In fact, even the burly man drinking across from him is looking straight through his body. “Did I die? Great, now I'm going to ruin Leslie's life by being dead. Can't a dead guy catch a break?”

There's an odd pressure on Ben's shoulder. Chris' hand is there, but it doesn't feel like bodyweight – just a tingling presence. “Now Ben, that's the type of thinking that I'm here to end. Do you really believe Leslie and Pawnee would be better off without you?”

Without hesitating, Ben says, “Yes.” There's no question about it. She would be successful, the city council chair hers.

“Well then,” Chris smiles with purpose, “I'm going to show it to you: Pawnee without Ben Wyatt.”

A gust of wind blows Ben down from his barstool. There's no feeling of impact, but the sensation of falling is dizzying.

When he gets up, he's in the Parks and Recreation Department. His vision is blurred, like he's dreaming, but all of the details are there: the sign for the Sullivan Street Park fundraising progress, the birthday gifts adorning April's desk... Leslie's running around, convincing Ron that the next two people who are going to walk through their office doors are evil. Jerry walks past Ben, not acknowledging that he's there. _No one_ seems to notice Ben's presence. Chris appears beside him suddenly.

“Ah! You've got to stop doing that,” Ben tells him, recovering from nearly jumping out of his shoes.

Chris looks at him apologetically. “I take it you know what's about to happen. Two state auditors are about to come in and cut the budget.”

As if Chris summoned them himself at that very moment, one lean-muscled man and his slightly shorter co-worker step foot into the department. Whereas Ben expects Chris and himself to stride in, the two men are Jack Fuchs and Michael Lechner.

“Jack and Mike? Why aren't you there?” Ben asks quietly to overhear the shared pleasantries between them and Leslie.

“Because _you're_ not. Without you, I'm not part of an auditing team. No one else can fill your shoes as my partner. Or really, as Chris' partner. You two are in Snerling, but that's not what we're here to see.”

Nodding, Ben turns his full attention back to the state auditors present. He knows little of Jack and Michael, just that rumor has it, they get the job done. Travel kept Ben from even sustaining relationships with his co-workers back in Indianapolis. Leslie and Ron walk into the conference room with them, and from her body language alone, Leslie's radiating nervousness. While Michael takes out his paperwork, Jack makes a coffee deliberately. Ron looks joyously at the two auditors like they're about to bestow presents to all the good boys and girls; Leslie looks like she's anticipating the death sentence. She even shivers.

“Some say that when people shiver out of the blue, it's because an alternate reality is being born, that at that moment, a choice or decision, maybe even something as small as a blink, is enough to alter the course of things. This is where Leslie's future diverges from the one you know.” Chris looks on with interest, his ominous announcement settling in Ben's stomach.

Once the auditors are seated, Leslie takes in a sharp breath. “I know you're here to cut the budget, but these are real people who work here and real people in this town that are going to be affected by you altering numbers on a spreadsheet. All I'm asking is that before you make any decisions, you hear me out.”

Ron's less pleased, Ben recalling his excitement to gut the budget with a machete. Jack and Michael eye her before each of them smiles. The sight reminds Ben of animated villains feigning innocence, but he shakes the thought off and attributes his negativity to not being the one meeting Leslie at this moment.

“Of course,” Jack says with unexpected gentleness. “Ms. Knope, Mr. Swanson, we auditors are given such a terrible reputation.”

Michael adds, “But we're here to help. Give us your thoughts, and we'll see what we can do.”

“Well...” Leslie's in her zone, citing each department member's ethics and specialty to emphasize that they all play an important role for the team. She even paints Jerry in a good light, kicking Ron under the desk when he guffaws at her. Then she's on to her projects, especially the Sullivan Street Lot. Michael takes notes throughout, nodding.

Ben gestures to the room, shaking his head. “See? Everything's working out better for Leslie already. They're listening to her, they're acknowledging what she's saying, and nobody's being called a 'jerk.'”

Chris doesn't respond, and his silence makes Ben reevaluate the situation before him. Sure, he knows that back when he and Chris were the ones working with the budget, there were cuts that couldn't be avoided. But maybe Jack and Michael will come up with a better solution. Maybe with less jaded eyes, they'll save Pawnee in the eight weeks allotted. Once the auditors have heard enough, they leave Leslie and Ron to visit other departments. Ron's looking a little dour, but Leslie is over the moon.

In a flash, a literal flash that Chris summons with a wave of his hand, Ben's in the Snakehole Lounge with Chris. He sees Leslie celebrate at April's party with Ann, taking shot after shot in celebration. Ben gets lost in the sight of Leslie's hair flipping back with every drink, the curls bouncing against her shoulders. He misses her already and wonders if time is passing in the real world, if he's still back at the bar in a daze while she panics and wonders where he is.

“You just wait, you beautiful otter. They're gonna cut 10% _at most_ and I'm gonna win an award for being the best at... avoiding budget cuts.” Leslie's drunk and adorable, her words slurring as she leans on Ann, who nods deftly.

Another flash.

Back in the Parks Department, Leslie's hungover in her office but still cheerful, even as she hisses when burning her tongue on a cup of coffee. She scrambles to the open area to greet Jack and Michael along with Ron and the rest of the department. Jerry walks in behind the auditors to everyone's confusion.

“We would like to offer our sincere congratulations to Jerry Gergich. He has taken us up on our offer of early retirement,” says Jack with controlled enthusiasm.

April, Tom, and Donna cheer, already wishing him farewell and offering to pack his things while Jerry bashfully steps forward. “It means two more years of Gayle and the girls with no interruptions! Isn't that fantastic?”

“ _No!_ Jerry, don't do this. Mr. Fuchs, Mr. Lechner, I thought we agreed that everyone here is invaluable. Now you're picking us off?” Leslie's protest in Jerry's honor surprises everyone.

Michael steps forward to calm her. “Ms. Knope, this isn't a problem that can be fixed overnight. It's going to take work and negotiations, and we're not going to be able to accommodate every department.”

“Truthfully, Jerry does have an enjoyable retirement. He goes on vacation with his wife and daughters and really ruins this presentation because he lives a happy life in the Pawnee without you, Ben. Everyone's right, Jerry _is_ the worst,” Chris says with a cheery disposition that contrasts strangely with his mocking words.

A corner of Ben's mouth turns up with the beginning of a smile at the idea of a happier Jerry, but then he turns his gaze back to Leslie. She's distressed and understandably so.

“How long do you have with us, Jerry?” She asks, putting her arm on his shoulder.

Before he can answer, Jack cuts in. “Today is Mr. Gergich's last day. And for some time, it will be all of yours too. The situation is worse than we thought; we're shutting down Pawnee city government until this budget crisis is handled. Mr. Swanson will be sitting in on budget sessions to provide insight on what fat we can cut from your department.”

“Fat? Wait a minute. Do I get any input in this?” Leslie's arms are crossed, looking like she's restraining herself from literally attacking the auditors.

“I'm sorry, Ms. Knope, but only employees _essential_ to the negotiations will be allowed in,” Michael says.

It's a metaphorical slap in Leslie's face if Ben's ever seen one. Once Jack and Michael leave the department, she storms into her office, slamming the door behind her. Leslie breathes heavily, eying Jerry's back with disdain.

Ben looks at her, wondering with at least a little pleasure if Leslie hates these two auditors more than she hated him at first. But he doesn't have long to linger on the thought because Chris waves his hand, and another flash brings Ben to a point later that day, judging by the similar wardrobe.

“But the Freddy Spaghetti concert is coming up! Can't you convince them that we need to raise morale if we're going to close everything down? These are _kids_ we're talking about, Ron. They have a dream, and that dream is to hear funny songs by a strange, smelly man.” Leslie's pacing Ron's office.

He furrows his eyebrows. “Leslie, while I normally _wouldn't_ try to level with auditors to take whatever bit of budget they can salvage for a man who's very ridiculous name instills annoyance in me, right now, I _can't_. Fuchs name should be 'Fucks,' as in how few he gives. The man's more ruthless with cuts than I am right now.”

Storming out, Leslie rallies everyone together. “We're going to put on this concert for those kids. We'll find a place and vendors, and Freddy Spaghetti will sing like the lesser, food-obsessed Weird Al that he strives to be! Now who's with me?!” The department cheers, nodding in response to her every direction bestowed to them.

That's the Leslie Ben knows. She's going to be just fine. When she runs right through him with purpose, Ben's pushed into the future once more.

He and Chris are at Lot 48 where Leslie and her team are well on their way to a successful concert, judging by the food trucks and the stage.

“You've been awfully quiet,” Ben says to his alternate reality traveling companion. “This isn't so bad. Leslie seems to be getting on just fine without me.”

Chris tilts his head. “Don't forget who brought Freddy Spaghetti to this concert, Ben,” he warns.

 _Oh_. Oh shit.

Racing past Ben and Chris, Leslie is talking frustratedly into her cellphone. “And you're sure he can't play the guitar anymore? … Well, I don't know, it's his right hand that strums, so he can hold the guitar up with his left hand and someone else can do the strumming! … Someone's gotta think outside of the box here, Ann!” She hangs up and looks around desperately.

“There's no Freddy Spaghetti and his delightful pasta tunes. MouseRat can't play either with Andy in the hospital after a motorcycle accident.” Chris sighs. “And it's too late to cancel.”

Watching the world before him in fast forward, thanks to another wave of Chris' angelic hand, Ben observes the lot fill with families all waiting for the concert to begin, and he fills with dread. Once the cheering crescendos, filling the air, Leslie hesitantly steps onto stage.

Ben hopes that in this reality, she'll have found an alternate performer to blow the polkadot socks off all of the children before her.

“If you're... happy and you know it,” Leslie begins, “clap your hands. If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands.” The rest of the Parks Department climbs on stage to join her. “If you're happy and you know it, and you really wanna show it! If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands!” Despite their attempt at enthusiasm, the kids aren't taking the lack of Freddy Spaghetti well.

Removing the mic off the stand, Leslie walks closer to the edge of the stage. “Hi everyone. I'm, uh, sorry to announce that Freddy Spaghetti isn't here. He bumped his noodle.” Weak laughter. She takes a breath. “I'm sure you've heard that the parks have closed down. I'm not one to make promises I can't keep, but I _promise_ that they will reopen as soon as possible.”

Tom starts a song with accompanying dance called the “Beaver Crawl,” and though Leslie tries to sing with energy, Ben can see her crushed spirit. What he wouldn't give to drive Freddy Spaghetti with his terrible body odor to Leslie and save the day. The bright smile she gave him that afternoon still warms his heart.

“This is her first big failure, Ben.”

Ben holds up a hand to silence Chris. “The Leslie I know will get past it. She doesn't stay down for long.” His words don't lack certainty, but the sight of Leslie up there and not among the crowd of smiling faces like he remembers so fondly is enough to make his throat tighten.

“Do you want me to take you further?” Chris asks, his quiet voice somehow audible in Ben's ear despite the concert noise. Ben closes his eyes and turns away.

“Yes.”

Back in the Parks Department, everyone but Jerry is returning to work. Ben blinks away the flash of light from his time jump and readjusts his vision. “Where... or should I say, _when_ are we?” He's always wanted to say that. Judging by Chris' expression, Ben is thankful that the rest of the department couldn't witness him saying it too.

Ron walks in, joined by Jack and Michael who are wearing their jackets and holding their briefcases. “Listen up,” Ron says loudly. Leslie nearly leaps out of her office to stand in front of everyone. “This,” he holds up a stack of papers as thick as the Master Plan, “is our new budget. It's the reason we're back to work today, and I want you all to be grateful for that before we go over it.” Looking pointedly at Leslie, Ron relinquishes the floor to let the auditors step through.

“We were supposed to stay eight weeks, but three months were spent to create budgets for each department so that you could all float during this crisis,” Jack tells them.

Ben knows this speech. It's the speech he's given many departments just before dropping the biggest upheaval they had yet to see. Leslie looks like she's not taking their accomplished looks as a good turnout for her or her department.

“But because we've stayed for so long, we have to move on. Other towns need our help. Your city manager Paul Iaresco has been given a thorough explanation of everything, and you may consult with him with any issue you might have.” Michael nods at Leslie. “Thank you for your cooperation, Ms. Knope and for your work, Mr. Swanson.” Diverting the blame to Ron... That guy's good.

They leave without ceremony, and Leslie at least has the decency to wait until they're out the door before she lunges for the budget. Tearing it from Ron's hands, she skims it, grunting, whining, and making incomprehensible sounds of protest.

“This is a _40%_ cut, Ron. Our maintenance workers have to take furlough days? We're going to be overrun by racoons at this rate. Racoons will run rampant through all of our parks!” She slams the heavy manual down.

Everyone jumps at the sound and her subsequent outrage. Ron, however, simply blinks. “I told you they weren't easy to reason with. I can't say I put up much of a fight, but even _I_ protested when the useful amenities were cut, Leslie.”

“Then we'll just have to find money elsewhere. Run fundraisers, get volunteers... Can we keep the gardening recreation class open so people can learn _and_ keep up the parks' plants and foliage? Yeah, let's do that.”

Ben turns to Chris. “This is when she comes up with the Harvest Festival. She'll run it, get her name attached, and everyone will know that she saved the Parks budget and made incredible revenue for the town.” Leslie will fix this, he knows she will.

“I _literally_ have never seen someone so obsessed with remaining spoiler-free want to skip to the ending, Ben Wyatt. Hasn't anyone told you the journey is more important?” Chris looks at him intently. “Pay attention to the details.”

Gesturing to Leslie's office, Chris entices Ben to peek in. Nothing looks out of order. Her inspirational women are still framed orderly behind her, her desk is still covered in sugar packets and post-its. But something's missing. The office seems slightly less filled. Leslie barrels in, sitting in her chair and spinning it around. Her hands hover over binders, but rather than having her dozens of Idea Binders that Ben was subject to go through during the budget meetings, there are just _five_.

“The children's concert made her second-guess herself, Ben,” Chris tells him. “Leslie still has passion, but the follow-through is a little lacking when it comes to the big stuff.”

“She _has_ to do the Harvest Festival, Chris. It's her greatest idea.” Ben remembers accepting that idea with a facade of reluctance, hiding the fact that he'd never been so impressed with someone accepting the budgetary situation but not standing by and watching people suffer for it. The presentation with the pumpkins was pretty cute, too.

Chris' mouth turns to a straight line. “Don't worry; Leslie Knope does suggest the Harvest Festival.” Touching Ben's shoulders, he induces the flash of light but keeps them in place in Leslie's office.

Night darkens the room, a lamp her only light as Leslie works in the deserted office. She looks ragged, her hair in a messy ponytail and her take-out waffles forgotten as she hunches over a calculator and mumbles to herself.

“There's no Ben Wyatt, no one to be her numbers-robot,” Chris acknowledges. Ben smiles at the title bestowed to him but frowns at this Leslie, sitting still instead of taking charge and running about with purpose. “Leslie knows the festival is only going to come together with business sponsorship, volunteers, and favors. Remember, she tried to scrap together the children's concert with those same elements and watched it fail.”

Leslie rubs at her sleepy eyes. Chris' voice is the only sound that fills the silent room: “So she garners help from her department. She has to do her and your job together - money calculations and pitching for favors, rallying the troops and laying out the plans. Leslie forfeits being the face of the Harvest Festival so she can be sure there even is one.”

Walking over to Tom's computer, Chris points at it, and it powers on, displaying an interview. Ben turns to Leslie, but she doesn't notice their presence or the sound. Looking closely at the screen, he can see Tom and Donna sitting with Joan Callamezzo, relaying information about the upcoming festival. The interview changes to a similar one with Perd Hapley and then audio with Crazy Ira and the Douche. Leslie's not in any of them.

“Look,” Tom says, “this festival wouldn't be possible without Leslie Knope. She is working day in and day out for Pawnee, and thanks to her, it's going to be off the chain!” Though Ben only has Tom's voice to judge, he's still certain it's filled with sincerity.

However, it's not the same as Leslie rallying for her work herself, and Ben knows this is going to make an impact.

“At least there's no Ice Town nonsense to muddy it up, right? I'm not there, so there's no curse,” Ben says, watching as Chris types on the keyboard.

Leslie's press conference with Ken Hotate plays. As he dances, Chris glances at Ben. “The curse was never you, Ben. Nor was it a real curse for that matter. But Leslie handled it, the reporters left, and the gates opened to Pawnee's Harvest Festival.”

“And?”

“Oh, it's a huge success!”

Ben turns back around to Leslie who has no idea what this hard work will accomplish for the town and for her. “See? I said you could do it,” he whispers to her. Leslie looks up suddenly, eyes peering straight through his. For a brief moment, he thinks she'll finally notice him, but Leslie looks back down. With a victorious smile, she crosses out some numbers and writes new ones. Her success is no longer smiling faces but rather calculations of desired outcomes. This Leslie is foreign to him.

A flash shines, this one, bright as the sun. Ben thinks he's still experiencing it, but opens his eyes to find himself in the festival's corn maze during the day. Chris waves Ben over, and the two pass through ears of corn, moving closer and closer to the sound of... crying? A weight fills in Ben's stomach; it's Leslie. He hurries toward the middle where he sees Ann hugging an inconsolable Leslie.

“I can't go out there, Ann. I just can't!”

“But there are people, thousands of people, enjoying the festival. I promise.”

“I'm afraid that they'll hate it and hate me. Or not enough people will show up. What if I let the Parks Department down? Or Pawnee again?”

A sob wracks through her body. Forgetting himself, Ben reaches toward her to put an arm around her and hold her until she knows she's loved and how much happiness she brings him and the townspeople. But his hand passes through her shoulder.

“Tell me she will know,” he says, his voice strong despite the burning in his eyes as he blinks back tears. “Leslie will see that she's done this without my help. There will be scouts who will tell her they're interested in her running for city council. There will be people in support of her.”

“I will tell you the truth,” Chris offers.

Ben lets out a frustrated grunt. “Hit me.”

The flash strikes Ben where he stands and takes him to the house he shares with Andy and April. They're packing the little they have solemnly with the help of Ron and Leslie.

“Babe,” Andy whines, “why does life have to suck? And why don't people come and take your things for you?”

“Those people are called movers, son. And life _'sucks_ ' because neither of you were smart enough to pay your bills and manage your home,” Ron answers sternly. “But that's going to change now that you've faced some consequences and will attend the Ron Swanson Housekeeping Seminar.”

Ben watches with interest. “What's going on?”

“Well, Leslie's not the only one your absence affected. You never showed Andy and April how to manage their home or open a bank account. They were kicked out of the house and are forced to move into a tiny apartment,” Chris explains while peering into the kitchen. “Not a single vegetable in sight...”

Rubbing his hands over his face, Ben sighs. At the time, helping Andy and April came mostly out of helping himself – he would be able to stand living in their house and could share the load of cleaning. It never occurred to him that April with all of her sarcastic comments and death glares and Andy with all of his well-intentioned but poorly executed actions needed him. Before he can make a disparaging comment, Ron calls Leslie into the living room while Andy and April load up the car.

“Do you know what I liked about you when you first started working for me?” Ron asks.

Leslie shakes her head.

“You were _fearless_. I restricted you, tried to make you sit back and accept tough realities, but you always fought back. You'd embarrass yourself at public forums and become the laughing stock of the town, but it meant nothing to you if you could just make a difference.”

Ben sees Leslie's eyes well up, her miniscule nod as she swallows.

“You messed up. You promised Pawnee something you couldn't deliver. _So what?_ That happens all the time in politics. But what you did for the Harvest Festival-- It would be easier to figure out what you _didn't_ do, really. Get out of the shadows, Leslie, and be fearless again.” Ron's lips are pressed together with the barest physical sign of emotion, but both Ben and Leslie knows it's his equivalent of breaking down crying.

Leslie hugs him, accepting that he'll only awkwardly pat her back. “I will.”

“Ew, are there emotions going on here?” April asks. But Ron's mustache twitches, and he resumes his work, nodding at Leslie.

Chris is crying softly beside Ben. “That was so touching.”

“Does this mean things will go back to normal?” Ben asks. “It looks like Leslie's getting back on track.”

Chris nods. “She pitches Pawnee to host the Indiana Little League Baseball tournament and succeeds, even though the pitch really could have used your speech. And when Li'l Sebastian – rest in peace little buddy – passes, Leslie plans a beautiful memorial. Ron isn't nearly killed by a fire ball, and two scouts approach her regarding interest in her as a potential candidate.”

Laughing victoriously in Chris' face, Ben dances lamely without a care. “ _Aha!_ I told you!”

His house vanishes before him in another one of the flashes he's becoming far too used to, and he and Chris appear in the Parks Department conference room. Leslie is sitting before William and Elizabeth, giddy with excitement. Her smile warms Ben, who's missed it greatly.

“I told you, right? No scandals, nothing to get in the way of a future campaign. Just years of servicing Pawnee,” Leslie says, her voice filled with well-deserved pride. “Not servicing as in prostitution... you know what I mean.”

William folds his hands in front of him at the table. Ben furrows his brow, taking a closer look. Something tells him this isn't going to be the conversation Leslie or he is anticipating. “Ms. Knope--”

“Please, call me Leslie. We're going to be communicating often, I'm sure, and--”

“Leslie,” he interrupts, “you've done a lot for Pawnee. The memorial for Li'l Sebastian, the Pawnee Harvest Festival, Camp Athena... I could go on. But we've reached out for polling numbers, and no one seems to really... _know_ you. Your name was never really attached to any of those projects besides a mention here or there, and your face was nearly absent during the Harvest Festival. I'm sorry, but we can't manage a campaign for a contender who needs to start public awareness at the bottom.”

Unsure of the extent of Chris' powers, Ben's almost certain he's just fallen through the crumbling earth. That's it? No campaign for her to thrive through without him? Just like that, the scouts are dissuaded from helping Leslie accomplish her dream.

“ _Why can't I have you and the campaign?”_

Ben almost wants to laugh at the memory of her saying that. Here, in this shitty excuse for an alternate reality, Leslie gets neither.

William and Elizabeth leave the room quietly, and Leslie continues to sit and stare at their empty seats. Her face is expressionless; he can't read if she's depressed or angry, relieved or even glad. She eventually stands and leaves the room quietly, turning off the light and shutting the door. Ben stands in the darkness, the image of Leslie's blank face etched into his mind.

“Be fearless,” Ben whispers, willing her to hear it and keep fighting.

“She will.” Before Ben can question Chris' statement, they're flashed once more.

They're at a bar for Police Chief Trumple's retirement party. Though none of the officers present can see Ben, that doesn't stop him from side-eying all of them and trying to get out of their way. Damn his fear of cops. After Chris points his attention to Trumple, Ben can't put a name to the man who's talking to the chief with a smoothness than Ben never could muster.

“Who is that?” He asks.

“Bobby Newport!” Leslie exclaims the name while charging toward Trumple and the finely dressed man.

Shrugging, Ben turns to Chris. “Still not ringing any bells.”

“Bobby Newport is heir to the Sweetums fortune. He's the son of Nick Newport, Sr., and most importantly, he's running for city council unopposed,” Chris details.

The man in question turns his head to Leslie and smiles brightly. “Hi Leslie! Great to see you as always. Are you going to bring up some good points tonight, too?” Is that a facade? Is he mocking her?

“You bet your Sweetums ass I do! Sorry, had to get that joke in. Anyway, Chief Trumple, you can't endorse Bobby. His family donates a lot to the police force, but his policy dictates that his efforts will aim toward helping big businesses and not the people. He's going to lose money for your department's budget through tax incentives for chain warehouse stores and the expansion of his family's company,” Leslie argues.

She's fearless and gorgeous, of course. All of that budget talk makes Ben want to kiss her for days.

Bobby grins at Leslie. “See? All good points!”

“Good lord,” Ben says when he realizes Bobby Newport is being genuine. “He's an idiot.”

Trumple looks between Leslie and Bobby before thanking him politely for his family's donations but denying the endorsement.

“Leslie's been doing this a lot lately. She goes to Newport's press junkets and campaign events to argue with him. His polling numbers have dropped. Isn't that great?” Chris asks, reveling in the party's cheer.

With his eyes locked on her, Ben's about to answer affirmatively when a man approaches Leslie.

“Funny seeing you here, stirring up trouble,” he jokes affably. Ben doesn't like that one bit. _“Stirring up trouble?”_ She's stirring up the truth! Who is this clown?

“Dave?!” Leslie seems to be adept at answering Ben's questions without hearing them. Before Ben can rack his brain to remember if she's mentioned anyone named Dave to him, Leslie's hugging the guy closely. Ben's hand twitches. “What are you doing here? Why aren't you in San Diego?”

That rings a bell. Ben recalls Leslie consoling Ron after Wendy moved to Canada, empathizing after having a boyfriend move to San Diego. Dave must be that boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Ben feels only slightly reassured by that distinction.

“I came back to see Trumple's retirement party, but I might stay in Pawnee for a bit to be in the running for the next police chief. Do you wanna, er, get something to drink and catch up?”

Leslie can't hear Ben's very loud excuses of why she can't, so she takes a booth with Dave. Over a couple of hours, they drink and go through the motions of trying to pinpoint significant events that constitute as news in their lives. For Dave, it's US Army Reserve duties and drills, noting that San Diego is pretty boring until that comic convention comes to town.

Ben scoffs. It's _Comic-Con_. This Dave guy is terrible.

For Leslie, it's the Harvest Festival, the budget auditing, and the possible capturing of Fairway Frank, leading Ben to calculate she and Dave dated until about six months before she met Ben. But Leslie doesn't look turned off like she's trying to get out of there and enjoy a life of abstinence (if Ben's not there, then that's the only option he likes). She listens intently, though not as intently as Dave listens to her, leaning in and laughing, grinning like she's this amazing, ethereal being. Leslie is. But that's beside the point.

When the party thins out, they congratulate the retiring chief one last time before stepping outside. As Leslie turns to say goodbye, Dave's mouth turns down.

“I, uh... Sitting here with you again just reminded me of how much fun I had with you, all the times you'd bring me in on your wacky schemes. Do you, I mean, would you, like to go out with me?” He asks.

Say no, Leslie. This guy's not your type! _“Wacky schemes?”_ He's demeaning; he doesn't see you.

“Sure, Dave. I'd like that,” Leslie replies before kissing him on the cheek and getting into her car.

Seething with jealous anger, Ben turns away from Dave and walks right into Chris. “This is nothing. Leslie is going to see that this is nothing, right?”

A corner of Chris' mouth turns up in appeasing agreement. “C'mon,” he says, and a flash brings them to another nighttime location.

Once Ben can see clearly, he realizes they're at the park with the Reasonablists the night Zorp is supposed to take them and end the world in a fiery pit of destruction. God, what even is life in Pawnee?

“Isn't this supposed to be earlier? This timeline can't be right,” Ben says confused while he looks around for Leslie.

“Ben, the world is irreparably altered when one thing changes. There are consequences,” Chris reasons.

Ben's eyes go wide. “Holy shit, does that mean the world's actually going to end tonight?!” He panics briefly, looking around wildly.

“No,” Chris says optimistically, “it just means that some events and dates get switched around. Bobby Newport will run for city council, but he hasn't announced it yet in your world. Dave will show up in Pawnee too. But for now in the world I've summoned for you, that all happens before the almighty Zorp is predicted to destroy life on Earth.” That last statement really shouldn't have been said with a voice as enthusiastic as Chris', but Ben accepts the reasoning nonetheless. “Dawn's almost here. I think you'll want to find her.”

Taking Chris' cryptic message, Ben wanders around, avoiding the cult members and settling on a bench nearby. Ron, Leslie, and Ann sit upon it, Ron whittling a stick to grab the donuts behind him with.

“Les, you told me Dave treated you like you were some storybook character going on adventures that he wanted to tag along with. Why are you going on all of these dates with him?” Ann asks. Good ol' Ann Perkins, asking the right questions. Ben walks closer, standing before all three of them.

“It's nice to _have_ someone, you know?” Leslie says with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. “And Dave's nice and funny in a self-deprecating way, I suppose. I want someone who's like that but who actually gives a crap about politics too. He doesn't go with me to Bobby's press conferences... maybe he's embarrassed. I dunno.”

Ron clears his throat. “Sounds to me like he's just safe.”

Leslie and Ann look at Ron's entrance into their conversation about dating and men with disbelief. He looks away and grabs a jelly donut, sipping from his black coffee in between bites and looking off into the distance.

“Ron has a point, Leslie. Since when do you do what's safe when you can do the right thing?” Ann looks at Leslie for a reaction. Ben doesn't like Ann's choice of the world “do,” because Leslie and Dave are certainly not _doing it_ , but he shakes off his childish thought. Best not to entertain the idea that Leslie is having sex with anyone but him.

Instead of reacting drastically, Leslie looks straight ahead, right at Ben again. This time, it feels like she can actually see him by the way her eyes soften. His breath hitches in his throat. “Please, Leslie. I'm _right here_.”

“All I know is,” she begins, still looking at Ben with a sad smile, “if the world were ending tomorrow, I'm not sure I'd want to be with Dave.”

“Well, that's significant,” Ron says. “The problem is, Leslie, the world's not ending tomorrow. The sun's gonna rise right over there. It'll be a regular Friday and you'll be in the exact same position you were in before.”

Chris appears beside Ben suddenly. Ben blinks away from Leslie and looks over to his friend. “You know Ben Wyatt, in your world on this night, Leslie said she wanted to spend it with you.”

“I thought the same exact thing,” Ben admits. “And I'd still want to spend it with her no matter what reality I'm in.” He watches the dawn light illuminate Leslie and her friends, wishing it could be his arm around her shoulder. Seeing Chris' gesture pointing behind them, Ben inclines his head, giving the okay to move on.

A flash of light engulfs them. The next thing Ben hears is a gasp. The sound of camera shutters. And then he's at the city council election debate.

Leslie's in the audience, pushing to get out of her seat. Dave holds her arm, trying to retrain her. “Don't, Leslie,” he warns.

Ben wants to punch Dave, force him to take his hands of Leslie. No one controls her. No one.

Indignant, she stands. “This is an outrage!” The audience looks to her, Bobby waving from beyond his podium. The debate is clearly a bureaucratic necessity, the other candidates virtually unknowns. “You cannot threaten us, Bobby! You can't take away Sweetums, one of the only leading industries this town has to offer, and leave us unemployed and wallowing in the streets just because we're not all blind to the harm you will do to Pawnee! I implore you, people of Pawnee, to not listen to him!”

Two security guards remove Leslie from the premise. Once outside, Dave convinces them to release her into his custody, citing that he's the police chief. The jerk got the job; that means he'll be in Pawnee for the distant future. Damn it.

With his arms crossed, Ben watches Dave put his hands on Leslie's shoulder, intimately moving into her personal space. “Leslie, you can't stop Bobby. You're not running against him, and if you keep getting into skirmishes, I won't be able to get you out of them.”

That doesn't sound like advice Leslie is going to abide by. She's incorrigible, and Ben loves that about her.

“She keeps fighting, right?” He asks to Chris who's standing in the doorway and looking in on the debate.

Poking his head out, Chris says, “Oh yes! Leslie doesn't stop until the day of the election. She's strong willed like that.”

“And?” Ben's impatient, waiting to hear that Leslie destroys Bobby Newport's political career and puts the spoiled child back in his place. Looking over, he sees Dave lead Leslie to his car. She glares out the window, still visibly arguing, even though Ben can't hear what she's saying.

“Oh right,” Chris says, and there's a flash. Whatever happened to just plain old storytelling?

The light clears, and Ben finds himself in Leslie's office. There are signs everywhere reading “Recall Newport!”

Oh no.

“Bobby Newport won the election,” Chris confirms Ben's suspicions. “And since joining city council, a fellow councilman named Jeremy Jamm has taken Bobby under his wing to vote against all of Leslie's parks proposals. It's been trying on her, to say the least.” He's interrupted when Leslie walks into the office, guiding a man and woman to sit.

Leslie places her hands on her desk. “If this is about Pawnee racoons climbing the fence, I've told other representatives from Eagleton that we're trying to get the situation under control, but--”

“This is about something else,” the woman says presenting Leslie's book about Pawnee. “We've read this, and we followed the speculation surrounding your birth in our town.”

Though Leslie tries to stammer a response, the man interrupts her. “You're quite the accomplished firecracker. The Harvest Festival? Your protests against Bobby Newport? The spotlight is on you, Ms. Knope, and we think we can use it to your advantage.”

“What's going on? Why are people from Eagleton talking about helping Leslie?” Ben asks Chris. But his guardian angel only points to his ears, instructing Ben to listen.

Remaining silent, Leslie nods slowly, listening as well.

“We believe you would be a great candidate to run for city council in Eagleton. We're having financial troubles and need someone with your dedication to help put our town back together. You've proved on more than one occasion that you're capable of the task.”

Ben's awestruck into silence, watching Leslie thank the scouts for their consideration and ask for a day or two to think about it. Then she nearly plops right back down in her chair.

Leslie wouldn't run for Eagleton city council, would she? She's told him countless times that her life is in Pawnee, that her life _is_ Pawnee.

“This is like some weird, twisted nightmare,” Ben says, laughing with panic. “This world is fucked up. Eagleton wants Leslie to help them? That idiot Newport wins Leslie's seat? Chris, you've got to be messing with me. Leslie's a feminist; I can't imagine that her life could have gone so far down the toilet because a man – especially one like me – isn't there to influence it. I'm not buying it.”

Leslie gets out of her seat at last to look at a doodle pinned to her wall of a campaign poster that she must have drawn roughly when William and Elizabeth first approached her about running in Pawnee.

“ _No_ , Leslie. This isn't what you want to be thinking about. Just... you'll have plenty of chances to help Pawnee, to change it for the better like you've changed me. I'm better because of you. I'm better _with_ you!” Ben moves closer to her, willing her with pleading eyes to make the right choice and decline the offer. “Chris, tell me she says no.”

“Do you want me to show--”

“No. Just _tell me_.” Ben's fists are clenched. This isn't right. None of it.

Taking a deep breath, Chris begins talking: “Leslie goes home to Dave and tells him about being considered. Mind you, she's brought it up to Ron and Ann who both told her to do what feels right, but to know that Pawnee would be lost without her.” His words conjure an image of Dave and Leslie talking in front of Ben, their conversation muted as Chris describes the gist of it. “Dave congratulates Leslie, tells her she can have what she wants. Leslie's hesitant, because as I'm sure you know, this _isn't_ exactly what she wants. But to Dave, this is her moving on and her proudest moment.”

Dave looks at Leslie, and gets down on one knee. “He proposes.” Ben shakes his head, his eyes filling with tears – angry tears for seeing Leslie with someone who doesn't see her or cherish who she is completely, sad tears for seeing a version of Leslie in which she's at her rope's end, hanging on by a thread. “Say no, Leslie. God damn it, say no.”

But Leslie still doesn't hear him, still doesn't know of a life with Ben Wyatt. She doesn't know that he would have paid out of his pocket for Freddy Spaghetti and saved the children's concert. She doesn't know that he would have worked by her side endlessly for the Harvest Festival, not just to see the town better off, but to just be by her side. She doesn't know they won't be able to be without one another, even as it jeopardizes her campaign.

All Leslie knows is this sad, poorly drawn version of her life, and she nods, hugging Dave while crying over his shoulder. Those aren't happy tears; they're the tears of someone who's lost control.

“You're looking at this all wrong, Ben. Leslie's life isn't better because a man makes it so. Her life is better because of the stalwart support of someone who loves her. From your first steps in Pawnee, you've made a future for and _with_ Leslie Knope. The future was born out of love and mutual respect. Once you accept that every reality, every person's future, comes with ups and downs and sacrifices out of love, you'll realize that you're not the reason Leslie's campaign ends in your reality. You're the reason it perseveres.”

Ben's crying now, wiping his eyes and turning away from Leslie and Dave to look Chris in the eye.

“Take me home.”

There's no flash this time, just a gust of wind like the one that put Ben in this alternate reality hellhole. He's falling, falling, falling down until at last the feeling of impact, an ache in his back, and the clinking of a bottle in his hands tapping the ground fill his senses. His eyes were squinted from his travels, so he opens them slowly to find himself on a floor – a bar floor in particular.

“You alright there, buddy?” The bartender asks as he walks around to lift Ben from the ground. “Only one beer and you're down; looks like you're quite the lightweight.” There's no sign of Chris, or the guardian angel who looked like Chris. Looking around frantically reminds Ben that everyone can see him, telling by their judgmental expressions.

Laughing it off nervously, Ben dusts off his jacket. “Sorry about that.” Looking at his wristwatch, he sees that it's already early evening. He throws down money for the beer and tip, and races out of the bar calling, “Have a good one!” behind him. Ben jumps into his car and looks at himself through the rearview mirror. His eyes are bloodshot from crying, but that's not going to stop him from rushing to Leslie with all of his might.

Peeling out from the parking lot, he floors it to City Hall. “Crap,” he says, remembering that his badge no longer works there. With an eye on the road, Ben speed dials Chris' number.

“Ben Wyatt!”

“Chris! No time to explain; I need you to get me a visitor's pass at the front. I've gotta talk to Leslie.” Ben waits impatiently at the light, flexing his fingers around the wheel tightly.

A sound of keyboard clacking is heard through Ben's speaker phone. “Done and done. She's on her way up to speak with me, but I'll make sure to send her down to meet you by the Parks Department. You all right, pal?”

Despite how much Ben wants to tell him, “Just _dandy_ after you sent me to an alternate reality where up is down and Leslie ends up sad with some asshole named Dave,” he just says he has to tell Leslie something important in person, thanks Chris hurriedly, and hangs up.

It's late enough that the City Hall parking lot is emptying out, so Ben pulls into a spot and locks his car behind him. He gets through the gates, goes through the metal detectors, and hands his ID to go straight through to Parks. Poking his head in, he sees her department ready to present her with the greatest Christmas gift of all. Ben hugs them all.

“It's so great to see you. Leslie will be unstoppable with you all.” Though they return his hugs, everyone thinks Ben has gone off the deep end.

“You've _got_ to get yourself a job. Boy's getting crazy enough to hug Jerry,” Donna says as he steps out.

While siting on the bench by the department, Ben realizes he doesn't know what to tell Leslie. Explaining what he's been through would undoubtably cause her panic and distress because he'll seem insane. An alternate reality? Guardian angels? Sounds like the ramblings of a mad man. He can't warn her about the future, if the future he's seen is even remotely close to the one that's in store for them.

Leslie walks down toward him, exclaiming, “Hey! What are you doing here?”

There's only one thought going through his head at that moment, and it's to kiss Leslie Knope. To hold her and forget about seeing her with someone else, seeing her but not being able to give her words of encouragement and hold her face or run his hands through her hair. Ben kisses her passionately, murmuring “I love you” and “I miss you” repeatedly against her lips. When they finally break apart, Leslie stares at him dumbfounded. Ben can't speak for a moment, too busy taking in the details of her face, the feeling of his hands wrapped around her waist.

“Are you okay?” She asks finally, no doubt seeing his eyes are glossy again with tears. But Ben doesn’t care. He'll cry right here, shout to the world that he loves her, if it means never having to be apart from her again.

Ben takes Leslie's hands and guides her to the bench. “I'm sorry that I wasn't there when you lost your campaign managers. I was selfish and guilty and couldn't stand to be the reason to cause you such pain and loss. But I know that you'll get past this, that _we'll_ get past this together. Over the last year, we've accomplished so much together. It's taken me too long to accept that to accomplish some things means to fail at others. How you get back up is what matters.” He brings her in for a tight hug, kissing the top of her head when she cries against him. Ben stiffens when he notices, holds her tighter to protect her from the world.

“Don't worry,” Leslie laughs, “they're happy tears.”

Remembering the surprise inside, Ben tells her to go in. Because he's seen the years of Leslie's life without him, Ben follows, unable to spend time away.

And when Ben sees Dave months down the line and loathes him immediately, that's his business.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to spoil much of the story in the summary or beginning notes, so I thought I'd talk a little more about what inspired me to write this. After reading many Christmas fics and quite a few Groundhogs Day-type fics in which a character relives a day with different outcomes, I came up with the idea for a fic in which we explore the world without a particular character in the spirit of It's A Wonderful Life. And since Ben's not present when Leslie tells Ann that she's loss her campaign managers, I wondered how he would react. My guess was drastically.  
> On the note of logistics, it made sense to go past the canon of where Ben is when he wishes to see Pawnee without him, which is why we see Bobby Newport and Dave even though Ben has virtually no idea who these people are. Let's just assume that Ben doesn't get accused of sorcery when he returns to his world. ;)  
> It did pain me to write a Leslie Knope that doesn't always preserver, especially after realizing that the show is so great because Leslie is an active character rather than a passive one. But I think that Leslie would have failed at least once without Ben's influence, and it was nice to develop a domino chain of events that would hinder certain aspects of her future but bring up others. All in all, I really hope you liked this fic. :)


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